The Spice of Life Affair
by AllTrekkedUp
Summary: Napoleon and Illya's vacation gets interrupted by a on the run THURSH agent and another U.N.C.L.E agent. It's now up to the three of them to capture the THURSH agent before his own kill him.
1. Chapter 1

"I don't know why the waiter was so disgruntled," Illya Kuryakin asked as he and his partner, Napoleon Solo, walked down the street.

"He just couldn't believe you ate an entire pot of fondue by yourself," Napoleon said. They were vacationing together in the Swiss Alps, staying in a ski lodge in Zermatt and they were out seeing the town and having a bite to eat that evening.

"Is that so uncommon?" Illya asked. He wore a white turtleneck under a blue and white heavy sweater that set off his eyes just so, he wore tan corduroy pants and snow boots.

"Yes. For non-Illya's it is," Napoleon laughed. He wore a tan long sleeved shirt under a maroon heavy sweater and black pants, he also wore snow boots.

"You talk about me like I am a different species," Illya said, grimacing.

"Well, there are other humans, there are even other Russians but there is only one Illya," Napoleon said.

"Nonsense. There are hundreds if not thousands of Illyas in Russia," Illya said.

"There may be, but there is only one Illya like you," Napoleon explained with a smile.

"THURSH should be glad," Illya responded.

"Indeed they should. But THURSH is not what I want to be thinking about right now. I think I would like to find a bar, a bottle, and a blonde," Napoleon grinned.

"Could we just grab a bottle and go back to the lodge? It's getting late and much colder," Illya said.

"You cold? I would have thought a Russian would be used to that," Napoleon said, he had spotted a bar and they headed that way.

"I have been living in New York for four years, before that in England, my days in Russian winters are far behind me. Living in the West has softened me up," Illya admitted with a sigh.

Napoleon smiled as they went in the bar, he ordered a bottle of vodka. "You win, we'll take his bottle from the bar and I'll have to settle for you as my blonde," he said.

Illya gave a disapproving look as they left and headed back to the lodge, walking down the street they heard a gunshot and the next thing Illya knew Napoleon was on the ground, clenching his shoulder. "Napoleon!" he said, he bent down to his friend.

"Ugh. Oh Illya," were the only things Napoleon uttered.

"Bad, yes?" Illya asked. His Russian accent becoming thicker as he was worried.

"Hurts pretty-good. Don't know how-bad," Napoleon got out.

Illya didn't say anymore he just carefully and quickly helped his partner to his feet and got him to the hospital that was a block away. There were no more shots so Illya figured that whoever it was had been targeting Napoleon or they would have shot him too.

Once at the hospital Napoleon was rushed back immediately and Illya wasn't allowed to follow, he was resigned to sit out in the waiting room for news, when he sat down he realized that at some point during all of this he had gotten the bottle of vodka, he looked at it a moment and then opened it and turned it up, chugging a third of it at one time. A man in his thirties sat down beside him, he had black hair and brown eyes, lightly tanned skin, he wore a heavy coat and Illya could see he had on gray suit pants and dress shoes that put him out of place for a local.

"If you'll excuse me, Mr. Kuryakin. I believe we have a mutual, um, uncle?" the man asked, he pulled out a card and handed it to Illya.

Illya was quite grumpy and took it from him with a jerk to read it. "Well Robert Colloy of the California headquarters, I believe you're right, we do have a mutual uncle," he said, handing the card back.

"I heard about Mr. Solo as soon as it happened. You see, I've been sent here to capture the man who shot him and I'm afraid he thought Napoleon was me," Robert explained.

"Well I have to admit that even though I am sure you are glad that it is not you probably having surgery right now, that it makes me cross," Illya said, his face held a stormy expression and he took another drag on his bottle.

This comment rubbed Robert the wrong way and he gave Illya a look. "Look, I know Napoleon, we're friends, we've worked together before and I would never wish ill on him. I wish it were me back there, he is a total innocent in this case and I feel responsible for him getting shot," he argued.

Illya's face softened some. "I'm sorry, forgive me for my words. Napoleon is my partner, we are close friends and I am worried for him, I am not angry with you, I spoke out of turn," he said.

Robert also relaxed, letting his guard down. "It's okay, I understand. I guess we're both on edge right now, I'm sorry too. It's been a rough mission for me, I've been chasing this guy all over Europe and I feel like the closer I come the farther behind I get," he sighed.

llya responded with a grunt and offered him his bottle. "Vodka?"

"I thought you would never ask," Robert said, he took the bottle and turned it up for a drink.

"This man, who is he? Why don't I know about him? Is he THURSH?" Illya asked, he took back the bottle and held onto it like it was his only friend.

"I'm sure you do, it's Van DuRosen of the Canadian branch for THURSH. He and a few others moved into the L.A. area about six months ago raising money from Hollywood backers for an attack on Canada to be blamed on the United States. But his boss found out that he wasn't exactly sending all the money back to Canada and that he had his hand in the till, ever since then it's been a race between me and THURSH assassins to find Van. This isn't the first time he has tried kill me, I doubt it will be the last, I feel like I need a nerve pill, a strong cup of coffee, a cigarette and-" Robert was lighting a cigarette as he spoke.

"Vodka?" Illya asked, handing the bottle back.

"Yes," Robert said with a sigh.

"You are right, I do know DuRosen. Have you no partner to help you?" Illya asked.

"No. My partner, Jimmy Codean, is down with the flu and the L.A. office is strapped for field agents, so here I am," Robert said, he turned the bottle up again.

"That is very bad for you. What will you do now?" Illya asked, taking the bottle as it was handed back.

"Report to Mr. Donleson and wait to hear what he says. Maybe Van will think I'm dead and slow down a little, we both lost the assassins when we got to Zermatt. There is nothing I would like more than to not give a damn, I am so tired," Robert said, he rubbed his brow, cigarette in hand, the other arm along the back of Illya's chair to his right, legs crossed.

"You look it. Perhaps once we know how Napoleon is, I can help you," Illya offered.

"That would be great! Thanks, Illya," Robert said.

Illya noted how easily and quickly Robert switched from 'Mr. Kuryakin' to 'Illya', he smiled slightly, he liked Robert. "First, let us finish this bottle, then we find out about Napoleon, then you call Mr. Donleson. DuRosen will be easy to track, from what you say it is only catching him that is hard," he said.

Robert smiled. "I like the way you think, Illya. But we don't need to get drunk," he said.

Illya scoffed. "I do not get drunk, I am a Russian. But perhaps you should watch your self," he said.

Robert laughed and leaned his head back against the wall, puffing out smoke. Soon both men fell silent, Robert looking up at the ceiling and Illya periodically drinking his vodka, brooding, waiting for word.

A/N: I had Robert Culp in mind for Robert Colloy


	2. Next Stop-The Rest of the World

Napoleon stayed conscious through his pain until they put him under to take the bullet out, the doctor could only speak broken English but Napoleon could understand his German, though it was hard for him to concentrate on the words. The doctor knew what he was doing so it didn't matter what language he was speaking, Napoleon was in his hands. Later on when he woke up he looked around groggily, there was a nurse there asking him in German how his pain was, he did his best to tell her awful, she gave him something for it. The next thing he knew he was waking up again, this time in a room with the heat on and a window looking out at the beautiful snowy mountains. He also had an IV in his arm and a stone faced Russian by his bedside along with another man leaning against the wall at the foot of his bed.

"Hello," Illya said.

"Hello. I guess I checked out for awhile," Napoleon said, blinking his eyes.

"They put you through surgery to take the bullet out of your shoulder," Illya explained, in case Napoleon didn't remember.

"Ah. What are my chances?" Napoleon asked with a grin.

"Good. But no thanks to me," Robert finally spoke.

Napoleon gave him a full look then and smiled, recognizing him. "Rob! It's been awhile. What are you doing here?" he asked.

"He is after the man who shot you, it would seem the bullet was meant for him," Illya said.

"Oh? Well you can have it if you like, I'll ask the doctor," Napoleon joked.

"No, thanks. I'll settle for DuRosen though," Robert said.

Illya explained the whole thing to Napoleon who thought and shook his head. "Sounds like Van is driving you to drink," he said.

Robert smiled and cast a glance at Illya, who's mouth turned up ever so slightly at the corner. "You could say that, I could do with some help for sure," he said.

"We would be happy to help, wouldn't we my vodka smelling friend?" Napoleon asked, looking at Illya with a half smile.

"Is it that strong?" Illya asked, knowing it was.

"Well it certainly isn't rubbing alcohol that I smell," Napoleon said.

"No, it isn't. But anyhow, the doctor told us that you will be alright, they will release you from the hospital sometime tomorrow, as long as there are no complications. He also said that you need to rest once you leave the hospital so I will help Robert," Illya said.

"I will rest on the plane to wherever DuRosen will go next. Now that I've got a whiff of this affair, not to mention a scar from it, nothing can keep me away," Napoleon said.

"Alright, well I would say that settles it. I'll call Mr. Donleson and report in and then we'll find Van," Robert said.

"I'll tell Mr. Waverly," Illya said.

"I'll just lay here," Napoleon said as the two men went out in the hall to contact their bosses. He waited ten minutes before they both returned.

"Everything is set," Robert reported.

"Yes and Mr. Waverly send his get well wishes to you," Illya told his partner.

"That was kind of him. But now gentlemen, I purpose you go find that THURSH agent, hum?" Napoleon asked.

"We shall. You rest while you can, we'll do the hard things," Illya said with a slight smile.

"Ha, ha. Get on with you now," Napoleon said.

Illya and Robert left the room and began to make their way out of the hospital and onto the now dark streets of Zermatt. "How do we find DuRosen? Are you tracking him?" Illya asked.

"Well, I have been, he usually finds my tracking devices and I have to replace them anytime I get near his luggage or anything else of his. Last time I hid one on his coat in the airport, he wasn't in it at the time of course, he was hiding from one of those THURSH killers, so was I, hopefully he picked it back up again and not the killer. I lost him after that and every time I turn on my control the signal is faint," Robert said. He took out a remote control type device and flipped a small switch on it, a light came on and it started beeping.

"Your right, the signal isn't coming in very strong," Illya said.

"He's north of here about ten miles, that's close to or in the airport. He's probably ready to flee Switzerland already, thinking that he's nailed me and only has to worry about his former friends," Robert said.

"Where do you think he would go next?" Illya asked, he was flagging down a cab for them.

"Well, he's covered Europe, that just leaves the rest of the world," Robert said with a sigh.

"Driver, to the airport, hurry," Illya ordered once they had stopped a cab.

When they arrived at the airport Robert's device was beeping loudly, they ran through the small airport as the sound lead them to the boarding gates. They got to gate seven and a woman stopped them. "Excuse me, gentlemen. Were you supposed to be on flight twelve?" she asked. She was a short, dark haired woman with a pretty smile.

"Did a man come through this gate wearing a black heavy coat? He's 5'11, brown eyes, sandy hair, medium weight, probably acting nervous," Robert questioned.

"Yes, I believe I recall a man like that. Why?" the woman asked.

"Was he using the name Bernie Con?" Robert asked.

"Yes! Mr. Con was his name. But why?" the woman asked again.

"And he is on this flight?" Illya asked, eyeing the plane sitting on the runway.

"Yes he was," the woman confirmed.

"Let us on, we have to talk to him," Robert said.

"Well I'm sorry, sir. Flight twelve just took off, you've missed it," the woman said.

Robert was crestfallen, Illya frustrated to some extent. "Where is the fight bound?" Illya asked.

"Zurich. But Mr. Con was rather adamant about leaving the country," the woman said.

"Did he say anything at all about this destination?" Robert asked.

"Only that he expressed some wishes about leaving Europe," the woman said.

"Thank you, Miss, you've been a big help," Illya told the woman before they walked away from her.

"Well, you were right. Departing from Europe, next stop- the rest of the world," Illya said, looking at Robert.


	3. No Rest For The Weary

After getting Napoleon out of the hospital they boarded a plane for Zurich and after that they were plane hopping until finally they were on a flight to the country of Myanmar in the city of Yangan. They were dog tired, Napoleon had been asleep since they had boarded their current flight, Robert was fighting with his two most prevalent needs- cigarettes and sleep. Illya was trying to be aware of the people around them, he hadn't noticed any THRUSH types on any of their flights which could mean that they were ahead of them and closer to DuRosen.

Illya looked over when he heard Napoleon groan in pain, he saw the man flinch and rub his shoulder. "Time for your medication?" he asked.

"Ugh. I guess, I get caught up in stale sandwiches, bed coffee and what time I am supposed to take my medication. I feel like killing Van myself if this jet lag doesn't get me," Napoleon said. He pulled out a bottle of pills and quietly asked a passing stewardess for a glass of water.

"I tried to get you to stay in the hospital," Illya said.

"I wish I had stayed in the hospital," Robert commented, slowly opening his eyes.

Napoleon chuckled.

"I must say, I am concerned about where we are heading. Myanmar or Burma, whichever you prefer, has just gone through a military coup, that is not taking into account the many small villages and rain soaked jungles that DuRosen can get totally lost in," Illya said.

"Well, from what I've studied about Van, having him on my radar for so long, he isn't welly versed in jungles nor will he like them. There has to be something in Myanmar to compel him to go there," Robert said.

"Well what could it be?" Napoleon wondered out loud.

"We are making our decent so you should find out soon," Illya said, looking out the window.

When the plane landed they had not only their bags searched at the airport but their persons as well, once they were checked out they were released.

"If THRUSH has something going on here then they have to have some influence with the military in charge," Napoleon said. They didn't see any kind of cab outside the little airport so they were walking, the city laid out before them, such as it was.

"Or they don't know about it," Robert said, lighting a cigarette.

"Impossible. If THRUSH has something here then the military has been paid off. Perhaps they even helped with the coup," Illya said.

"You think they are that deeply involved?" Robert asked.

"I am saying it is possible. I suppose our next step is to get a hotel and ask around discreetly as we can about Van," Illya said. He was aware of how tired and weak Napoleon was, he knew if the man didn't get some proper rest soon that he would fall over.

"Yes, I would like a hotel," Napoleon said.

Robert patted his shoulder, he could sense from Illya that he was concerned about his partner's health.

they went into the first hotel they found which was of the British style and got a couple of rooms, it didn't take someone with skills of observation to see that every person they encountered was scared to death, Robert and Illya exchanged a glance as they went in one of the rooms. No one said anything until they swept the room for bugs, finding none they relaxed somewhat, Napoleon laid down on the bed, Illya stood and looked out the window into the hotel's small courtyard, Robert sat down backwards in the desk chair by the bed.

"People around here are jumpy, hmm?" Napoleon asked, laying on the bed with his eyes closed.

"Wouldn't you be if your country had just gone through a coup?" Illya asked.

"Yeah, but the way they act, like one wrong move and you're dead. It's just...I don't know. Gives me the shakes," Robert said, taking a long drag on his cigarette.

"We will most certainly be watched when we go out. And shall no doubt run into trouble if we start asking too many questions," Illya said. He observed four military men making rounds in the courtyard.

"We always run into trouble, my fair Russian. We just have to use our wits and watch our step," Napoleon said. He didn't really care what was going on at the moment, it felt so good to be in a bed.

"Hold on a minute now...what if- what if Van was coming here because he has friends with this part of THRUSH? This section that may or may not be in control of this country?" Robert asked. He got up and started to pace as he thought.

"Are you suggesting that THRUSH is hiding them from themselves?" Illya asked.

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time they fought within their own ranks," Robert said.

"My, my, a kingdom divided against itself cannot stand. If this is the case there's due to be a battle in Berma," Napoleon said.

"Quite a bloody one," Illya said.

Suddenly the door was broken down and the four armed military men from the courtyard were in their room. "You are under arrest!" one of them declared.

"Oh well, so much for a nap," Napoleon commented, raising his hands.


End file.
